Dark Light from Below
by princessludwig
Summary: Wingtalia gerita au. Ludwig's kind are called angels, the most advanced species known, they keep themselves locked away in the clouds. When an accident sends him tumbling down to earth, Ludwig is certain he'll face death at the hands of demons. But perhaps these "demons" are not all he believes them to be... germany/italy.
1. Take It In

Perhaps Ludwig didn't understand, couldn't fathom the events that were about to occur, and shatter his limited scope of the world.

Angels, that's what they called themselves. And this cloud was their home, their city, and their entire world. You just didn't question that. You didn't question how the water vapors were packaged to form city walls and buildings and railings, or how the earth used for their farms and central park was placed there or how their staple crops and animals were even kept in enough quantity to support their entire city. That was just the way it was. You didn't leave the city. You didn't dare venture down to earth. Earth was where dark, vicious, clawed creatures from myths lay, and that was why the angels made their home in the sky.

There were rules too. Number one; you may never leave the perimeter of the city. This rule was for safety, like many of their rules. You mustn't eat or keep foreign or earth substances, report all instances to the Bureau for Public Safety, the Bureau for Public Safety is the ultimate authority of law within the city, all things they could easily accept. There were other, social rules, rules that Ludwig didn't like, but he was forced to comply to. He was assigned to a class and graded with some numbers based on his abilities and told here was where he would live as an adult, here are his things, and here was his future wife.

And it was really the last part he was upset about. He simply didn't like her, didn't want to settle down and leave the comfort of his parent's home, even if she did have a lot of money or social status. So on days like today, when the numbers on his calendar overwhelmed him, he sat at the edge of the city, looking out over the railing wistfully.

Ludwig was tall and broad, with a well-muscled frame, yet a soft, gentle quality about him. He was always well shaven, with his blonde hair brushed back and soft baby blue eyes that betrayed too much emotion, in his opinion. He did his best to keep his pure white flight feathers well groomed and his down fluffed, but kept his wings folded by his side, in the hopes perhaps his presence would be ignored.

Today was no different. His wedding was scheduled for a week from now, and there was nothing more he wanted than to be left alone. She was nice, he kept telling himself. Lyra was kind and what you'd call beautiful but by the same token he just could not force himself to love someone he didn't, and beautiful did not mean well rounded or good for him. But this was the Bureau's decision, not his, and his parents had congratulated him on the arrangement and were wholly pleased that their youngest was destined to rise to such a level in society. His brothers had patted him on the back and some had been jealous, but Ludwig himself was anything but pleased.

She was nice, he thought, eyes scanning the light summer sky for some sign of life. The earth itself was not visible today, and he fretted a little; for such a dark place, it was awfully beautiful from the sky. He'd of course heard and digested the stories of bears and lions and tigers and all manner of beasts that ate angels without hesitation, but most worrying were the demons. Dark anti-angels, they stood seven feet tall and had fiery gazes that pierced the soul and ate the raw flesh of angels like Ludwig as a snack. With sharp fangs and razor like claws, they could even hunt down a tiger. Granted, Ludwig knew little to nothing about tigers, but they sounded horrifying nonetheless. Sometimes he wondered what the demons really looked like. Where they red and horned, or did they look much like a black, predatory angel? Would being eaten by one really be much worse than his current predicament? Ludwig snorted softly.

He'd been standing here all day. Sighing at the setting sun, Ludwig gathered himself up and moved to a bench near the railing. It was too much to deal with at eighteen, but this was every other angel of his age's challenge, and he supposed with time, he'd adapt, much like his own mother and father had. He had to go home soon, as he was still needed, and no deal of moping would change that. He was stopped by a smooth tenor voice to his side, and a thin hand on his left bicep.

"Going somewhere, Beilschmidt?"

"Viktor," Ludwig acknowledged, glad to see it was only his old friend holding his arm, "How are you doing these days? I haven't seen you in a while."

Viktor seemed surprised by this response, his emerald eyes blinking curiously back at Ludwig, "Things are not well, as you probably know. One of my old friends took a lot from me. Not directly, of course. But he had to have known what a life the Bureau had planned for me, when he came along and snatched it out of my hands. A low life who's been disloyal to the Bureau deserves little sympathy from me, you could say."

Ludwig shuddered a little, unaccustomed to Viktor's aggressive side, "I'm sorry that happened to you. Lately I've been-"

Ludwig was interrupted by Viktor snaking an arm around his chest from the back, the other pulling Ludwig's right wing from its folded position, "That's all very well, Ludwig. Then you'll understand why I have to do this."

Viktor brought his knee up sharply to connect with the inner joint of Ludwig's left wing. The blonde wasn't aware of what had just happened, a small shriek covered up by a dull, echoing crack. Ludwig fell off the bench in sudden agony. Viktor simply smiled, kicking at Ludwig's mangled wing.

"It's a shame I had to do that, dear friend. But with you gone, all that I deserve and more is mine. You never did like her anyways, did you? It's a pity one as disloyal to the Bureau as you should be so well liked by it. Always complaining about those pesky rules. You'd just love it if this became a lawless place like your fantasy earth. Hell, look what you've made me do. "

Ludwig croaked from his position on the ground, shocked by what had been done. "Why?"

Viktor just gave a light chuckle. "I've already told you," the shorter male stooped, using all of his weight to drag the struggling Ludwig to the railing, "And since you seem so fascinated with demons, it seems fitting that you'll also join them."

"That's treasonous to our kind!" the blonde shouted, before his head was slammed against the rail.

"Dearest Ludwig, if you don't make a sound, no one has to know. Goodbye, old friend."

Ludwig did not recall how they had become like this, but Viktor let go, and he was tumbling swiftly to the earth below, all of his worst dreams of the terrible demon creatures and their minions becoming vividly true as his broken wings fluttered uselessly against gravity. The earth was calling to him, swallowing his dreams whole.

He landed with a sickening crunch, and the world was as white as his perfect city.


	2. Don't Hold Your Breath

Feliciano Vargas was simple, as his brother put it. He woke up and tended to his animals and took great joy in each and every moment to the point it almost disgusted his older sibling. Simple things pleased him, like a flower in bloom, or the young chicks that followed at his heels, stumbling uselessly after the feed in his hand. He was content, to say the least. He was also what most would call stunningly gorgeous (his own words, mind you).

Feliciano was slender, with toned olive skin and caramel gold irises that seemed to sparkle in the light. He fashioned amber curls that wrapped around his delicate face, paired with a long, thin set of amber wings, flecked with black around his primaries and secondaries, with a warm gold underside. He was moderate in height, not exactly tall but not exactly short, and his sweet disposition made him a favorite of the village's.

Feliciano and his family consisted of Lovino, his older brother; Marcello, his younger brother; and Romulus, their grandfather (though with his youth, and the absence of any parents, the three considered him a father, and had even speculated who their potential mother might be). The four men lived in a small clearing by a stream, in the middle of some unnamed woods the people simply called their village. The place was ideal for farming, and the woods provided a natural barrier and resource for building their house. Feliciano had no recollection of the house ever being built, but they'd made many additions over the years, so now each person had their own room.

The cows and chickens roamed wherever they pleased during the day, kept in check by old mossy fences at the edges of where clearing met woods. Days spent on the farm were long and dull, collecting eggs and milk to take to market, and occasionally figuring how many animals they could spare each year for meat and leather. Every Saturday, there was a market in another clearing farther down the stream, where all the citizens of their forested village came to exchange goods. Feliciano enjoyed these days, bringing his small basket of cow corn and eggs out along the winding dirt path to meet up with his friends and exchange the stories of that week.

Life was slow. But the world had something much more interesting in store for Feliciano today.

The day started, and nearly ended, like any other. What was special was Feliciano had finished his chores early, and was simply sitting on a fencepost waiting for the sun to set, and the stars to come out. Warm winds blew out of the east, and Feliciano breathed in the fresh air greedily, enjoying the weather and the harvest summer brought.

A white dot at the edge of his vision pulled the brunet from his daydreams. It was moving too fast to be a star or bird, and seemed to be getting closer, falling towards a spot not too far off in the woods. Feliciano swore he heard an awful crunch not too far off, and curiosity took hold, despite the tightening knot in his stomach.

Spreading his wings out to their full length, he took off over the forest, in search of the white object. It was difficult to see anything on the ground when the trees had full foliage, so Feliciano considered it a blessing he'd practiced maneuvering the woods before, diving right in. There was a funny, metallic scent in the air, and Feliciano slowed down apprehensively as the smell became stronger, the knot in his stomach tightening. It was the scent of blood, he realized. Whatever had fallen was alive. At some point, who knows how it was doing now.

The stench was sickening, but by now Feliciano could spot the white thing not far off. It was strung awkwardly between the branches of the trees, suspended by strange white appendages covered in feathers. Like wings. It looked like them. It looked like a person, but something (alright, many things) were very, very wrong. For one, the wings were bent at an angle that made his heart twist, and were bleeding heavily. For another, he was white all over. His wings and skin were pale, and his hair was almost as yellow as straw. If he didn't look sick enough from the bruises and cuts on his body, he certainly looked awful with the pale coloration. Feliciano needed help.

Knocking his brother over on the return flight was not ideal, but apparently randomly leaving the home with no indication of where you were going and coming home screaming about blood and white wings was "unacceptable". It figured, but Feliciano had little time for formalities right now. Lovino was quite useless to him now anyways, he was shorter than Feliciano, and this person looked quite large.

"Nonno! Nonno, I need your help!"

Romulus sighed from his seat at the kitchen counter, knowing full well his boys only addressed him as a grandfather when they needed something, "What is it, Feliciano? Did a chicken get loose yet again?"

"No! No, no! Have some faith in me," Feliciano denied, "I found a person in the woods. He looks hurt. So I thought maybe you could help me get him back here."

Romulus looked down at him from over the pot of stew he was cooking, "Is this another one of your stories, or a friend of yours you'd like to stay over?"

Feliciano huffed, "Perhaps you'd better just come with me then. Even if you don't want to help you'll want to take a look."

Romulus bit his lip, "How hurt is 'hurt'?"

Feliciano growled, "I can't tell that for sure! But his wings look broken and he's awfully bruised. I think he fell from the sky."

Romulus looked at him incredulously, but rose from his seat, "Well alright then. But if this is another one of your pranks, you can expect to sit out on dinner tonight. I'm not really in the mood."

"No, Nonno, nothing of the sort."

When they'd found him again, Romulus had stared at him for a moment, more intrigued than disgusted by the body, "He's white."

"See, I told you you'd want to see it. But do you think you could help now?"

Romulus drew up his tunic, bunching it around his face and winking back at Feliciano, "You should have told me this was going to be dirty work."

And it was dirty, and they had to bathe him once they got home, and wash his tunic (which was also white). Feliciano felt quite awkward like this, especially with him still asleep, but his chest was still moving in steady, albeit shallow movements.

Romulus had determined his left wing had been broken, and he'd have to set the bone back and wrap it like that before he woke up, he didn't really have painkillers that strong around. The cuts on his torso and arms and legs were easier, and could be simply cleaned out with alcohol and wrapped with gauze. Feliciano had taken care of this, and Romulus set the bone with a resounding crack, pulling the wing out to the side to bind it properly. The other was cut up, but mostly missing coverts and tertiaries, and Feliciano thanked the spirits that his main flight feathers were still intact. If he was lucky, his next molt would be soon and they'd be replaced anyhow.

When this was done, Romulus had retrieved an old sling cot from the basement and set it in the corner of the family room, propping the pale man's wing upon the wall to keep it stiff. Feliciano felt as though he was intruding now, and curled back up on the couch at the other side of the room, watching intently as Romulus resumed making dinner.

Lovino and Marcello emerged a while later, finally finished locking the animals away for the night. Marcello had stared for a couple of seconds, before nervously approaching and asking what it was. Lovino, on the other hand, hadn't even waited for an explanation. He'd immediately known who to blame for this.

"Feliciano."

The sharp tone broke Feliciano from his daydream, "Hm?"

"What the hell is that?" the dark haired man hissed.

"What? Oh, him? I don't know but I found him hurt in the woods, probably from a fall."

"And you brought him here?" Lovino's glare was poisonous.

"Boys! No fighting," their grandfather called from the other room, "We ought to help out, after all, if he's from a strange place, he could have a lot to offer in return. And from the goodness of your heart, I suppose," he chuckled slightly, "But I know you don't believe in such things, Lovino."

"I do too! But why does it have to be this pale freak?"

"Don't be so rude," Feliciano hit his arm lightly.

Lovino pouted, but left the room, opting to check on dinner instead. Marcello had been gently touching and observing the wings of the sleeping male, as if entranced by them. Feliciano didn't blame him really. Marcello was relatively young at only thirteen, and he was awfully quiet too. Romulus had suggested at one point perhaps he was mute, but he worked hard anyways, and it seemed he could talk if he really needed to. He certainly wasn't talking now, and he started and left suddenly when he noticed Feliciano watching him. Feliciano wasn't sure, but the pale man seemed to be almost angelic in sleep. He wondered where he came from. Was it the far north, where his colors would blend in to the snowy terrain? But in that case, why would he be wearing only the thin tunic, or not have thicker plumage? Romulus had seemed shocked as well, though he hadn't seemed to have put too much thought into it.

Feliciano's thoughts were broken by Romulus calling them all to dinner. His musings over the strange man would have wait. Dinner proceeded as usual, and Romulus purposely avoided conversation about their guest, asking instead his usual spiel about their days and the crops and the cows. It was mundane in the face of the excitement Feliciano had just had. Dinner passed all too slowly, and they headed their separate ways into bed.

The next morning was not much different, with Romulus checking to see if their guest had awoken, and upon discovering he hadn't, he'd resumed his usual assignment of chores for the day. Feliciano had watered the animals and let them back into the yard, wishing he could observe the pale man a little more.

Marcello and Lovino were already in the living room, sipping at hot tea while watching the pale man stir with interest.

"Has he woken up yet?" Feliciano asked as he seated himself next to them.

"No," Lovino muttered, "Just shifting. He's probably in a lot of pain."

Feliciano sat for a while in silence, before moving over to the side of the cot where the pale man lay.

"What do you suppose he is?" Feliciano wondered aloud.

"What do you mean? He's clearly a person. I mean just because the coloration is off doesn't mean you can discredit the fact he looks just like you and I."

"Well I got that," Feliciano snapped, "I was just wondering why he's white. Don't you find that odd? I've never seen anything like it, at least."

"Jeez Feli, you can't just ask people why they're white," Lovino sighed, about to continue into a tirade until their grandfather butted in.

"He's probably an albino, which would explain how he was hurt while flying. The lack of pigment makes them extremely susceptible to sun and predation. It looks like something went after his wing first, and the rest is from the fall. It makes him even more noticeable when he's got that white tunic on," Romulus shook his head from the kitchen, "It's a wonder he thought to go out looking like this."

Feliciano nodded, not really listening. Something was off about him even if he was albino. His hair clearly had a pigment, it was yellow. Curiosity overtook him, and he peeled the man's left eyelid open slowly.

"It's blue! His eyes are blue," the brunet exclaimed, shaken for a moment by the pure oddity of it all, "Lovino, come look at it!"

Lovino's head popped up over the edge of the armchair, but he simply sighed and leaned back in his seat after a moment, "Feli, get your fingers out of there. Heaven knows where they've been."

Feliciano huffed irritably, returning his attention to the resting form on the cot, "I know Lovino, I know, but what do you suppose he is then?"

Lovino grunted, and the brunet knew he wouldn't have a proper answer. Not until he discovered a set of baby blue eyes blinking up at him curiously.


	3. The Bottom's All I've Found

Ludwig had no idea where he was, and everything hurt like hell. The former was terrifying, the latter was to be expected. His vision was hazy, but he could make out a curious looking face hovering above him. That was funny. Angels didn't have dark hair or skin or eyes.

And with that thought he was up, breathing heavily and trying desperately to push the face back with his wings, but he soon discovered he couldn't move his left wing, and the pain began to pulse in his veins again. The face now looked worried, mouth open slightly, and all too suddenly it spoke, gentle hands holding his chest down firmly.

"Hey, are you alright?" it asked, "Does it hurt bad?"

A voice called out to them from across the room, "Feliciano? Is he awake?"

There was some shuffling, and Ludwig took the time to observe the room around him. It was made entirely from trees, it looked like, which was absurd. The flimsy bed-like thing he was put on seemed to be made of fabric, but it wasn't plant fiber like his own. The room was decorated with large, soft looking chairs that almost looked like they were covered with tough skin. Everything was foreign to him, and too colorful to be natural, or at least natural to the sky. The room itself was not nearly as concerning as the three faces gathered around him.

They had dark skin and flecks of dark brown spotted their cheeks, something that was both intriguing and concerning. The one who had been holding him first had hair and wings that shone amber, with eyes that looked like they had a tiny piece of the sun within them. The second had emerald eyes, and hair and wings of a much darker hue. The youngest was paler than the other two, with hair that was almost red.

Ludwig was unsure how to react to these strange new faces, but the first place his mind went was the legends of demons, and how they drove the angels off the earth and into the sky. He pulled his right wing tight to his body, sitting up with a jolt, trying to back as far away from the faces as possible. What was there to even say? "Don't eat me" was a bit extreme and if they were going to, would have very little effect. "Stay back" had no real threat to it, and again would have no effect. Questions showed dominance of conversation, correct?

"What are you?" Well, it wasn't the conversation starter he wanted, but it was something nonetheless.

The first one tilted its head, "Um, last time I checked, I was a person."

The second spat back venomously, "I ought to be asking you that!"

And the youngest furrowed his brow, "Aren't we the same?"

Ludwig drank in the answers slowly. The second one was aggressive, which affirmed his fears. The first called himself…a person? And the third was clearly confused because there was no way Ludwig could even be on the same plane of existence as an angel-eating demon from earth.

"Did you maybe mean our names?" the youngest questioned, "I'm Marcello, this," he said, indicating to the darker one, "is Lovino, he's the oldest; and this," he pointed now to the one with sun-eyes, "is Feliciano. Our dad's in the kitchen making you some vegetable soup. His name's Romulus, and he likes to insist he's our grandfather. Humor him on that bit at least."

Feliciano laughed lightly at this, "Do not! He's most definitely our old paps, and I'm betting you a dozen eggs Aegyptus is our mom!"

Lovino rolled his eyes at this, "How many times have I told you, Helena's the obvious choice, she's got the same hair!"

Marcello turned back to Ludwig, ignoring his brothers, "What about you? Do you have a name?"

"Yeah," the blonde breathed, still shaking heavily, "'m Ludwig."

"Don't worry, Ludwig, I'll get Roma over here right away to have a look at you. Don't worry about my brothers, they'll get over it," Marcello promised, exiting the room with a call of, "Nonno!"

'Nonno' emerged from the kitchen all too soon, carrying with him a bowl of soup and a spoon. He was well over six feet tall, with pseudo black wings trailing along behind him, and a rough frown on his face, he looked the most formidable (and demon-like) of any of the demons Ludwig had seen to date. He dragged a wooden chair beside Ludwig, sitting down in it heavily, and offered the bowl and its contents to him.

"Go ahead, eat."

Ludwig felt he was going to pass out from fear, but he took the spoon and began shoveling the soup into his mouth, hoping to please the larger demon. "What is this?" he questioned, between mouthfuls. It had a much more savory flavor than any bird he'd ever tasted, and the meat was much darker.

"Beef," the elder said, tone unreadable, "We raise our own cattle here. Suppose you should know, I'm Romulus."

"Ah, thank you, Romulus," Ludwig nearly choked out, trying to keep his fear from overwhelming him. He had no idea what a "beef" or a "cattle" was, but he accepted the answer nonetheless, hoping to please the elder. And it did. For a little while, at least, and then he was eager to talk, it seemed.

"So where do you come from that you're white like that, eh?"

Ludwig shifted slightly, unsure how much to share, "Uh, a city sir. Above here on a large cloud. Everyone I've ever known has been white."

Romulus' brow piqued, "A city? On a cloud? Do go on." Ludwig could sense his disbelief. Even the three younger demons stared at in him in absolute wonder and disbelief.

Ludwig gulped, but continued, "Um, yes sir. We live in apartments and you're assigned to your quarters based on marks. My marks were very high, so I had a whole flat to myself. Everything there is clouds; the furniture, the buildings, the rails, everything. I don't know what a beef is, we've only ever eaten birds and potatoes and maize. Anything that'll grow that high. We're called angels, and you…you're a demon, if I'm right. We aren't met to meet. I've got to go back soon, they'll be missing me," he panicked slightly, "I'm meant to get married soon. They'll cancel."

"You're too young for that. How old are you? Can't be more than twenty. And are you sure of this thing with cities on clouds? Seems right out of a fairy tale."

"Eighteen sir. And yes, I've said it many times; we built on a cloud."

"Unlikely at best, boy. Believe me, I've tried walking on a cloud before, when I was your age and had all those dumb fantasies in my head. How about you just rest," the elder dismissed him, shooing his children out into the yard with a loose gesture.

"But I'm not lying!" Ludwig couldn't believe the old man had so easily rejected everything the blonde knew was real, "I mean how do I know you're not lying, and you put this splint on my wing so you can stuff me and eat me?!"

Romulus raised an eyebrow, "Why would we wait for you to wake up if we were going to eat you?"

"Because clearly you are trying to stuff me with your fake beef food thing. I mean, bird meat isn't that filling, you are waiting for me to get fat!"

"Why would we eat you if we have beef and vegetables? We're doing pretty well on food right now. And you look too lean for eating," the brunet sighed.

"Because the Bureau for public safety said you do, and why would they lie? 'Public Safety' is in the name."

"Well I've never met any of the people in this bureau," the brunet huffed, "How do they know what we are like if we've never even heard of them?"

"I don't know, but they must have seen your species in order to come to the logical conclusion you are terrible demons who will eat me and make fun of me and my culture while you do it apparently." Ludwig huffed indignantly, tired of the old man's rejection of his story.

"How did your "Bureau" describe us then?" Romulus snarled.

Ludwig shifted uncomfortably, "They said you have sharp teeth and pointy claws and were very tall and dark and ate people, and that you kept wolves and tigers and lions as pets. Which is why we had to move into the sky and find a way to sustain ourselves alone."

Romulus lifted up his hands, offering a palm for Ludwig to inspect, "See for yourself. I have no claws or fangs to speak of. And you can clearly see my sons; Feli and Marcello aren't that dark; they're more amber colored. We definitely don't eat people, and wolves, tigers, and lions wouldn't make good pets and don't live around here anyways."

Ludwig was horribly confused, "B-but why would the Bureau lie? Do you hate angels and war against them then? Do you have a record of your history that has us in it?"

"I've never even seen someone like you before. And our history vaguely mentions a war between races, but we dismissed it long ago as just a story, or perhaps referring to darker peoples angered at lighter peoples like my family. Never did I think…" Romulus shook his head in wonder, clucking his tongue.

Ludwig went silent for a moment, processing it all, "So there was a war. Your kind must've won, and pushed us out. What did you call yourselves again?"

"People, plain and simple. Demons just sounds derogatory."

Ludwig looked down at himself for a moment, "So…by that logic, I am a person too, aren't I? We're not really different species, just different colors. Like Gyrfalcons."

"I suppose," Romulus mused, "Well, now that that's settled, you really ought to get some more rest for that wing. You took a nasty fall it seems."

"Oh. Yeah, that. My friend kind of pushed me. Said it was a payback of sorts." Ludwig noted nonchalantly.

Romulus seemed shocked, "Your friend pushed you?! Are you sure you are still friends?"

"Probably not. I mean I thought we were but clearly I hurt him very badly for him to want me dead."

"You seem too timid to hurt anyone," the elder retorted.

"I'm not timid. I'm just surrounded by people my kind has built up this immense fear of, in a strange place, and my friend threw me off the side of our city so he could marry my fiancé. What is there not to be afraid of?" Ludwig sighed dejectedly.

"Touché. Listen, you probably need some rest, don't you? I'll get you some wool blankets, you just settle down and I'll keep my boys quiet. But we'll continue this conversation when you're up again."

Ludwig nodded, and settled down on the cot, rubbing his hand over it gently, and wondered where this 'wool' came from. This change was happening all too quickly, and he feared the 'people' may be leading him on yet. This type of kindness for a foreigner, much less an earth creature, would be entirely unheard of. The poor thing would probably be immediately put down by the Bureau. He shuddered at the thought, and thanked the stars the people had no such system in place. It seemed like a lawless place, but he couldn't place whether such a thing was good or bad, not yet anyways. He'd always thought of himself and the angels as just that; angelic, and holy. Beings that were pure, untouched by all the dirt beneath. He wondered now if that too, was just a result of having their heads, quite literally, in the clouds.

He had always imagined the earth to be this horrible, dark place full of demons and nightmares, but now, he supposed it might hold just as much wonder as its inhabitants.


	4. Can't Get Higher Than We Get

Feliciano didn't understand anything the white thi- Ludwig, had said. And it seemed Romulus had retained very little as well, or at least, very little he found believable. He seemed to come from some type of closeted community that only contained white people, and fed lies about the outside world to its inhabitants to ensure their loyalty. Ludwig was brainwashed, Romulus had said, and he doubted the city truly existed on a cloud, maybe a mountain peak if he were to stretch, but the problem with that was there were no mountains close enough for him to fall from. Ludwig was certainly more scared of them than they were of him, so Romulus had stated quite matter-of-factly that Ludwig was clearly brainwashed, and should be treated with care until reality fastened hold in his brain. Feliciano found this rather cruel, but perhaps his mind was more open to the idea of a city in the sky, and he sympathized with the stranger more.

Besides that, it seemed Ludwig was two years younger than him, and already being forced into an arranged marriage. It all made Feliciano wish to question him more about this strange world in the sky. Was he satisfied like that? Did he ever doubt his "Bureau's" word? Feliciano had a harder time grasping they could really be one and the same with Ludwig's strange culture. Perhaps, next time they went to market, he'd get himself a proper history book from Roderich. The man did buy a significant quantity of their leather to bind his books. It was only fair to repay him.

Feliciano gathered his thoughts together, resolving to go ahead and ask the strange man about his life. There really wasn't anything to lose.

Ludwig was sitting on the cot, splinted wing drooping the most he could manage, leaning against the wall and staring off into space. He observed Feliciano approach him with a nervous bounce of his Adam's apple, like he meant to speak but was too afraid to do so. Feliciano seated himself on the leather sofa nearest to him, facing him with as much cheer as he could muster.

"Hey there, Ludwig, right?" The blonde nodded, so Feliciano continued, "Well, truth be told, I'm mostly interested in what you said about your home. You know, you said it was in the sky. Um, that isn't really a proper way to start a conversation, actually, how are you?"

Ludwig seemed to process this slowly, and Feliciano was reminded he often spoke too fast, plus Ludwig was already obviously overwhelmed. He answered hesitantly, voice all too soft for his large frame, "I'm fine, thank you. That's what I said, I live in a city built on a cloud. Though it seems your grandfather does not believe me. And you know, up until a day ago, I would have said it's impossible for anyone to live on the ground, but clearly you do. So I don't see why he can't make the same connection. I'm not a brainwashed idiot," he huffed. Clearly he had overheard some of their conversations earlier, and was not pleased by their conclusion.

Feliciano nodded, replying, "I suppose it's because you've seen it, whereas he hasn't. I mean, certainly you knew things lived down here, just like we know birds stay near the clouds. We simply haven't seen it to understand how you live that way, which is why I was meaning to ask how do you walk on a cloud anyways? Wouldn't you just fall right through? It's water vapor, right?"

Ludwig blinked, "Well, I'm not quite sure how they do it, but it's condensed to be like ice, except not really, because it's softer and warmer than that. And everything can be made from it. They only let those assigned as engineers and maintenance workers know how it's done. I was meant to be an eventual member of the Bureau itself, after a few more years of training."

"Is that a good thing? And do you suppose maybe it's made from another gas then? How does it float?"

Ludwig bit his nails, curling away at the fast paced questions, "I don't know, I'm not assigned to that! You're making me sound like a fool with all these questions, I only studied our law and history!"

Feliciano started at the sudden outburst, "Hey, hey, I didn't mean to upset you. Um, I mean it's fine that you don't know how it works. I guess I don't know how say, the river keeps flowing. But I know it does and it's real. So I see no real reason not to believe you unless it's disproven."

Ludwig nodded, pulling his knees up to his chest again, "How long does it take for wings to heal? A couple days? I need to be back home by a week from now."

Feliciano frowned at him, "No…have you never seen a broken bone before? It'll take a couple months at least…and by then it'll be winter. Do you get heavy snows where you live?"

"No…," the blonde whispered, his eyes beginning to water, "People who break limbs usually are deemed useless and get culled. We're very good at taking care of ourselves…normally. I've seen snow, but usually it's beneath us."

Feliciano watched the stranger with interest. What kind of cruel world did he live in that they killed someone just for being injured? That was impossible to control, and seemed almost barbaric to Feliciano. "The snow builds up on the ground here, and covers all our fields. That's why the animals need a barn, and we store our grains and meat for the winter. It gets horribly cold, you'll need thicker clothes…and shoes."

Ludwig nodded glumly, "It doesn't matter much. I can't go back now really...If I don't return within the week I'll be assumed dead and my position reassigned to Viktor…"

The brunette tilted his head in confusion, "Who's Viktor?"

Ludwig stuttered slightly, "A-a former friend now, I guess. I thought we were friends anyways. He clearly didn't, he shoved me off the edge," Ludwig's voice was beginning to crack.

"He-he hurt you? How could you even consider him a friend if he cares so little for you he threw you to your death over an arranged marriage? Were you even satisfied being married off like that?"

Ludwig didn't meet his eyes, "I know but…I've never had another friend. I trusted him. Too much maybe, but I trusted him. And to be honest, no, but it's not my place to question the Bureau's decisions."

"If he was willing to kill you, he sure as hell wasn't your friend. Why would you just settle like that? Can't you argue it out? Surely there's more than one option."

"Not really," the blonde muttered, "What the Bureau says is law. No other option except to be culled. We don't ever exile anyone. Just culling."

"That's beyond cruel!" Feliciano exclaimed, "How can you all stand for that?!"

"What do you mean? What's your punishment for dissent?"

'Usually just a fine," Feliciano stated, matter-of-factly, "The larger the crime the larger the fine."

"Does that prove effective?"

"…Yes, we don't have a lot of crime. It's a small village. We all know each other around here. You'll be welcome to stay, you know. I can understand that you'd never want to go back to a place like that."

Ludwig blinked, "It's my home. My family. Why would I want to avoid them?"

"But you've said they'll do such awful things to you if you return? You'd rather be dead up there than living down here? You haven't even seen outside the home."

"Look," Ludwig snapped, "I appreciate your hospitality, but you're asking me to give up my whole life in a single moment. I hardly even know you."

"Right," Feliciano huffed, leaning back in his seat, "Right."

Secretly, he wondered if Romulus was correct. Ludwig was certainly in a strange state of mind, if not entirely brainwashed to think half of those things were normal or humane. Feliciano settled further into the stained leather, wishing the blonde could at least display some interest in learning about the world outside of the log cabin. But the blonde simply fluffed his wings and settled back onto the cot, determined to give Feliciano the cold shoulder.

Ludwig was not amused by the amber man's questions. There were three things he had observed in that conversation. One; Feliciano was ethereal, effulgent despite the fact Ludwig was the one from the heavens. He was honey eyed and flecked with tiny dark spots from his face to his wingtips, and his movements were languid and serene. The only traits that broke this otherworldly image was his lack of magniloquence, and utterly offensive slander against Ludwig's culture. Which led him to number two; the concept of the Angelian society bothered the earth people so much they felt the need to question how anyone could live that way, considered him childish and mislead, searched for ad-hockery in place of listening to him and his plights. Third; he was grounded indefinitely in an unfamiliar home. He knew practically nothing about these people and their society, other than the limited scope he'd gleaned from the two measly conversations he'd had (in which they'd mostly been questioning him), and the apparent lies told to him by the Bureau's education system. According to Feliciano, the people killed far less than his own society did, if equating a culling under due process of law to a murder was something acceptable. To Ludwig it did not seem acceptable to even begin comparing the two, but the people it must. His musings were practically inutile, but even so, he felt compelled to think over his recent problems, facing the wall with his back to the slumping Feliciano. He dare not think he may have to spend more than a week here before, but now reality was settling in at last, tugging at the edges of his eyes in the form of small droplets of water.

A couple of months. That was far too much time, and he could augur from Feliciano's pattern of speech that "a couple" really meant more than six, at the least. To have him back in a week's time with no residual injury would be thaumaturgy, perhaps they had such a mage in town? No, that was too hopeful, and magic was also prohibited from the Bureau, granted of course, it was even real. He was forced, by no will of his own, to remain here, at the whims of Romulus and his…sons? Grandchildren? The fact he was ambiguous in that made no sense to Ludwig whatsoever, but was really the least of his worries.

What was worrisome, at least immediately, was how to remain in the good graces of his newfound providers. He feared he had offended Feliciano somehow, or at least made him cross with his adherence to his culture. Perhaps adaptability was far more valuable in his current situation, whether or not it belie his Bureau's teachings. There was no way to reclaim his standing in society, and no way he could safely return without shame. It was utterly terrifying, and he could feel his breath growing shorter, his palms beginning to sweat at the thought. He was purposeless. Ludwig was meant to be swearing in to the highest rank attainable, not lying motionless on a wool cot in the middle of the day, servant to the tenebrific concoctions of his mind! On the topic of adaptability, he did wonder if he ought to reach out, consider that perhaps he and Feliciano existed within the same plane of intelligence – not to say Feliciano was unintelligent, but it had occurred to Ludwig that after erasing his fear of the physical aspects of people, they really were not on the same level. Any standardized test could have told him that much. Yet Ludwig's affluence was hardly providing him with any useful or tangible skills, something the Vargas family seemed to have a lot of, just from watching them care for the large animals and fields outside.

Ludwig could stand to learn something from them; that his intelligence and test scores meant nothing – nothing when he was being asked to survive.


End file.
